Carrion Virus (Book 2): The Athena Protocol by M.W. Duncan Read Free Book Online Page A

the place where she was forced to strike a man with a knife to save her own life. She had seen so much horror, and knew there was more to come.
    Don’t think about it. Concentrate on moving forward. Stacey’s gone and you have a job to do.
    The CAF soldiers alighted from the bus, rifles and packs in hand. The bus station was covered in a thick layer of snow. Armed men stood at the doorways, weapons held at the ready, their faces hidden by thick balaclavas. Gemma followed the group toward the hotel door. It was one of the largest in Aberdeen, several storeys high and housing hundreds of displaced people. Now filled to capacity, no doubt strangers would be forced to share rooms.
    They trudged along the corridor, sweat and dampness mingling in the air. The carpet beneath their boots showed hints of once being bright and immaculate, yet was now dull and ruined. Gemma loosened her scarf. Ahead, a sergeant shouted orders. She followed the procession up the stairs, filming as they climbed. Her foot burned. Glass had lacerated her foot two weeks ago, and regular cleaning of the wound and changing the dressing had not brought about any signs of healing. But she had less to complain about than most.
    Nothing happening around her sprang out to her as majorly important. She was taking standard run-of-the mill footage, the movement of displaced people and the redeployment of military personnel, a mass of panic-filled faces, people herded from one place to another, the everyday misery that haunted Aberdeen.
    Gemma rounded a corner, finding the soldiers stowing their packs in the bar area before moving out. Danni waved her over and indicated the free chair next to her.
    “Sit down. Thought I’d keep you in the loop,” she said with a smile, one that Gemma guessed would disappear in a few days.
    “What’s happening?”
    “We’re starting to bring in the displaced. The soldiers you saw will be stationed on every floor. None of the room doors will be permitted to close.”
    “And if someone does close a door?”
    “Everyone coming here signs a contract of behaviour. Anyone breaking it will be removed and detained indefinitely.”
    “No kidding?”
    Danni shrugged. “Dangerous times, Gemma. The actions of one person can endanger many more. We need to be strict. The CAF aren’t screwing around. That’s live ammunition in those rifles.”
    “Where do they go?”
    “Who?”
    “Those who don’t follow the rules?”
    Danni checked over her shoulder, a slight movement that many would have missed. “I don’t know. Nowhere good I suppose.” She smiled again. “But still, we hope that won’t happen. The first coach load will be here soon. We’ll be processing them. Feel free to stick around.”
    “Actually, I was hoping to tour around the hotel a little, see some of the conditions.”
    Danni tapped a pen to her teeth. “That’s at the discretion of the CAF. That badge,” she pointed her pen at Gemma’s Black Aquila ID badge, “won’t get you very far. The CAF is the law here.”
    “Guess I’ll stick with you, then. Can we get a coffee?”
    “Sure. Over there.”
    She pointed to a table lined with large canteens for the preparation of hot drinks.
    Gemma made herself a cuppa. Only plastic cups were provided. Her cold hands welcomed the warmth, then as her fingers seemed to thaw, the cup was difficult to clasp.
    “Government issue,” said Danni. “Would kill for a good porcelain cup and saucer.”
    Something niggled at Gemma, and it wasn’t the heat of her drink. For all the structure and organisation there seemed to be a vagueness to what she was told. Control was a fine thing, the CAF and DSD maintained it only through circumstance. How thorough were the new arrivals screened for infection? It would only take one lapse, one rare case that didn’t display symptoms in the assumed time to turn the sanctuary of the hotel into a nest of infection.
    The thought roused a great fear, one strong enough to have her think on